Charade
by Emerald-Water
Summary: After "No rest for the Wicked". A "go on" about the special children, and Dean's and Sam's destiny. One-shots. Sam/Dean
1. Charade

Hello, this is my try to explain what's gonna happen in the new season.

"What if's" about the special children and Dean's destiny. - ENJOY -

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**Charade**

He could hear himself scream as the creature lunched itself on him. Tearing his flesh, biting through muscles, and sinews. He could hear Sammy's scream, Sammy's begging for Lilith to stop. To not kill him. To leave him alone, and ever so slowly the world around him faded. Turning dark, turning into something much more sinister.

The pain didn't stop. It felt cold, and hot, stabbing pain, pulsating, white and angry pain. And he was afraid. And he was angry, furious. He knew he screamed for his brother, over and over again until his voice was nothing more than a mere whisper, his throat raw and torched. In his mind he always replayed the last thing he saw before his life ended. Sammy, his little brother pinned at the wall and hold into place by this bitch - Lilith, a deathly light engrossing him, eating him, mauling him… while remembering this, he was suddenly aware that the pain was gone, that he wasn't longer writhing in torture… but wasn't he supposed to be in pain? Wasn't this hell? Wasn't this what you get, if you make a deal? Wasn't he… he pried his eyes open, eyes he had shut tightly, trying to keep the pain outside in an attempt.

He opened his them to see watchful yellow eyes hovering above him.

With a jolt and a small gasp he sat up, but before he could try to flee from the demon in front of him, the man with the yellow eyes spoke: "Dean, my boy. Welcome. I'm sorry, but this was the only way to keep you safe. Safe until the time was right… until tonight."

The demon watched at Dean intently and for a moment it's features softened at the confusion evident on the young man's face.

A genuine smile formed on the creatures lips and he spoke further.

"All the special children, Dean, just to pick one? Or – maybe – all the special children, to keep one safe? To keep my foe busy? Lure him on a false track, to keep him from my actual plan? My actual special child?"

Dean watched the man with the yellow eyes still not understanding, and this time the demon snorted at his blank stare.

"Dean! Your life has been always about saving Sammy, about keeping him alive. Because he was the special child. And right, he was sort of special, because I gave him his skills. As I gave them other children his age, and I made sure that tragedy struck the families with those special children… but Dean, only one family with two children, only one…"

Dean slowly shook his head no. He wouldn't believe it. This was another way to torment him.

"Lilith, took my bait, went after those children I set up for her – to keep my heir undetected. To keep my heir safe… to keep you safe, Dean."

Green eyes met yellows and it was the sincerity in the yellow eyes, that for a first time in his life let Dean loose the staring-battle.

"Yes, Dean, yes. I came for you too. And I made you mine, Dean. All those years ago, when you where born. Since ever our blood is akin." The demon nodded.

"Lilith understood the moment she killed you, and the moment she laid hands on your brother that she did make a wrong decision. And now you're by my side. We're reunited as father and son. Our army awaits us, Dean. You and me are to fight. The war will start soon, and it's time to draw the curtain off of my charade. It is time for you to take your place beside me – son."

FIN

Thanks for reading...

Lee


	2. Spell bound

Hey there! Some people asked me for a continuation in this.  
After some thoughts I came up with this.  
They are all stand-alones, and short-stories.

But all plays after the "No rest for the wicked"

Lee

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**Spell bound**

He stood in the archway barley visible.

The lights had flickered off as he had showed as a dark shadow, with hunched shoulders he waited. He was here for some reason. Someone had summoned him. It started to drizzle and the first rumbling of thunder could be heard, and then he smelled it. Human! He started grinning wickedly under his hood. A stupid-enough-human had summoned him. He felt the thrill of an upcoming hunt ran through him.

And then he could hear his prey. Still in the shadows he slipped his hood away, giving him full view and he left his place, walking to meet the stupid human, his steps loudless and gracefully. As he drew closer to the human he could smell something else. Something he knew, something his subconsciousness remembered, something good. His steps faltered, as some odd emotions started to cruise through his body. Emotions he couldn't know, emotions so alien to him he almost felt sick. He heard himself gasp in a vain attempt to find his composure, and this small sound was enough for his prey to be alerted. The figure mere 50 feet away from him whirled around, fists raised, ready to fight.

The moon made his way through the heavy clouds at that moment, give him a chance to get a glimpse on his new foe.

He was young, but his face showed his true age. And for a moment those hazel-eyes met his and put a spell on him. The strange and twisted emotions suddenly peaked to new heights, letting him almost gag. He recoiled from this feelings, from this stranger, who, he knew, wasn't a stranger…

_SPN-SPN_

Sam felt his presence. He knew it was him, as he had felt him all his life when he was near. He shuddered, ignoring the slight drizzle, just relished in this feeling of his brother being near.

He concentrated on his surrounding, knowing it had been dangerous to summon him, but nonetheless he had to. He had to see for himself, that the rumours were real. And then he heard a small sound behind him, letting him whirl around in anticipation and drop into a fighting-stance. Moonlight bathed the dark alley he had chosen and for a moment his eyes met those green orbs of his brother. He forgot to breath, not able to fight against the spell this moment put on him.

It was Dean. His brother, staring at him wide eyed it felt like this moment lasted forever, but even eternity was too short. And then it was gone, and then Dean was gone, and he was alone.

As he had been the last couple of months… and the moon hid again behind dark and heavy clouds, letting the drizzle change into a downpour, the first lightening struck.

And Sam just stood there, mixing water with tears he didn't know he still had….

FIN


	3. Deadly Dance

Hey there! This would be my third stand-alone concerning the aftermath of "No rest for the Wicked"...  
Hope you like this...

Lee

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**Deadly Dance**

They circled each other wearily. Every fibre in his body screamed at him to leave. To run for his life… and that of his brother. He had his fists raised, ready to defend himself if it was needed, but not ready to fight his opponent.

"I'll not fight you!" his voice was calm, certain. Nothing of his inner tumoil showing in his speech.

His opponent snorted: "Well, Sammy… then you're even more stupid than I assumed!"

The knife in Dean's fist flashed and Sam ducked and blocked.

"I'll not fight my own brother!" Sam repeated, the calmness in his voice still present.

This time he wasn't even granted an answer, and the knife flashed again, Sam's forearm blocked it on it's way downward. Dean's reflexes were unique, as he grabbed Sam's sleeve and tossed him. Sam fell, took the momentum of this motion to roll and came up on his feet again, whirling around to have his eyes back on his sibling… his Dean…

"Did you lose already that much of your humanity, Dean? Did you already surrender? Already forgot what you did? Already forgot who you were?"

Dean's gaze never wavered, his eyes still the same green they had ever been… and something shone from this eyes. Something Sam knew. Then the moment was gone, and the real fight began.

With a furious "Human!" spat from Dean's lips the knife he had fisted, was tossed aside and at the same moment he charged.

It seemed almost like a dance if someone had passed by. A rehearsed sequence in graceful motions. But as well trained all this seemed, as deadly it was. Every kick, every punch was thrown to hurt and to do the most possible damage.

Sam panted, ignoring the pain, from the countless hits he had taken, still not starting to advance in return, only defending.

His brother was getting more and more enraged with every step Sam took backwards.

He remembered countless occasions his brother had done the same. He just hoped his plan would be working.

As they drew nearer and nearer where the pentagram – Solomons sigil – was hidden beneath an old, ragged carpet, Sam was almost at the end of his strength. Sweat was running down his face, stinging in the little abrasions on his cheekbone and the blasted knuckles of his hands. He anticipated Dean's next move, grabbing his arm while sidestepping him, using the force of his brother's punch, bent his hip and let him flew through the air. Dean landed heavily on the piece of old rug, the center of the sigil. Sam let out a held breath, bending forward in relieve and to allow his body to recover for a moment.

He could see Dean move on the carpet, the throw had stunned him only for the instant.

Then a cold laugh emanated from him.

"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy…" his breathless voice sounded over to where Sam was still bent over. "Do you really think THAT will hold me back? Do you really think a stupid drawn star will stop me?" He stood, dusting down his pants, stretched and did his first step… and out of the pentagram.

Sam stood there dumbfounded, watching his brother walking slowly up to him. He could see the blood trickling down Dean's chin, due to a split lip.

Then Dean was there and Sam's resistance went down the drain. He felt his brothers hand grabbing his throat, raw force starting to lift him. His own hands sneaked around his brothers grasping hand, pleading silently with his eyes, but Dean squeezed.

Sam drew in ragged breaths, desperately pawing on Dean's merciless grip.

"Dean… please…" he tried to get through to whatever part of Dean was still there, his movements going more and more sluggishly. And then, as he felt his vision swim, a grey haze overlaying everything, the pressure was gone. Gentle hands easing him down on the concreted floor.

He could feel wind brushing his face, his hair. Voices raised behind him, one loud and menacing, the other one defeated but determined.

The wind intensified, grew loud and howling. Something heavy fell on top of him, covering him and strangely enough, in his semi-conscious state he felt protected.

Before the wind died down, however, he could hear a soft whispered "Sorry, Sammy...", then silence blanketed the world.  
The warmth and protectiveness was gone, leaving him cold and shuddering…

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FIN


	4. Power within

Hey all!  
Sorry for the long pause. But I told ya, I'll update this, when ideas pop into my mind.  
And this is another stand-alone... enjoy!

Lee

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**Power within**

Every time he encountered the young man, he felt… wrong. He knew he shouldn't. It was his duty to please his father, his master, his mentor. But still.

He stood silently in the darkness, just watching the human. He always excused himself for watching the young man that he had to study him. He needed to prepare for their next encounter.

He wouldn't let him get away alive next time. Last time was… yeah… what was last time?

He had had him already. But he hesitated. Couldn't kill the pathetic human. He was superior. He didn't have a conscience. He… suddenly something had overtaken his action. Something incredible strong. Stronger than the darkness within him. A part of him, that shouldn't be there. Should it?

He stopped his reverie to watch the young man again. Sam. The boys name was Sam. He felt the strange emotion trying to get the upper hand again. As if even thinking this name was letting the captured piece of his… soul?… demanding to break free.

The light in the motel-room was switched off. And he stood there, watching the young man – Sam – sleep.

He remembered their last encounter, and the weired feelings that came with it.

_SPNSPN_

_He laughed cold, lying there on the old piece of rug. Did this pathetic human really believe he could be stopped by this scribbled piece of ancient humbug?_

"_Sammy, Sammy, Sammy…" he mockingly teased the human. "Do you really think THAT will hold me back? Do you really think you can stop me with this stupid drawn star? Am I looking to you like the average Demon?" He stood, dusting down his pants, stretched and did his first step. He couldn't be stopped. He wasn't that kind of Demon. _

_He saw the young man standing there, being glued to the spot, eyeing him in disbelieve. He sneered at the look of the human, walking up slowly to him. He licked at the blood oozing from a split lip, and he felt the thrill running down his spine, as the gaze in the human turned into something different. Surrender? He was right in front of the young man now, grabbing him around the throat, lifting him brutal and squeezing. Fully intent to end this here and now. He felt a hand wrap around his wrist in an uncoordinated way to stop him, and looked up. Pleading eyes met his and an whispered "Dean… please…" was uttered, before the eyes of the kid closed. Sam's eyes… he felt the emotions of the thing hidden and caged deep down inside of him go rampage. He drowned in feelings. Fear, worry, love, care, and hate against what he was doing and what he was about to become. His hands guided Sam down on the floor, fingers that, a second before brought pain, now brought relieve. An enraged scream could be heard as his father appeared. _

"_You end this here. And you end this now." He spat. _

"_I will not end it here. You told me I'd decide at what time and what place." He replied, his voice steady. _

"_Why not here? Why not now?" his father screamed furious. _

_Dean stood, not wavering in his gaze. "He is a warrior. And he's supposed to die a warriors death." Dean looked down on the young man to his feet. _

"_He still believes I'm his brother. It will need time for him to know I'm not longer his sibling, but his foe. THEN, the time will be right. And I'll fight against a opponent worthy." _

_His father stood there, watching from his son to the boy on the ground._

"_Such honorable words from a creature like you." He answered, and with an screech and incredible heat he vanished._

_Dean knew this would happen and covered the young man at the same moment the heatwave rushed over them. _

_SPNSPN_

He stood beside the bed now, looking down on the sleeping form of his brother, allowing this little piece of his former self to watch his sibling sleep. He knew time was running short. And soon he would have to fight the last and worst battle. The battle of which side of his persona would win. He didn't know if Sam's brother was strong enough to withstand Azazel's son.

**FIN**


	5. Lost

Hi all!

So, it's been a while, that I posted one of the small one-shots.  
And this is the last one. Journey's at the end... thanks for reading this.

Enjoy!

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**Lost**

He stood straight in the middle of his foes. His arms outstretched, both machetes glimmering in pale light of the night, awaiting the onslaught.

Nothing mattered anymore. He'd die tonight; he was sure of it. But he wouldn't go down without a fight. He'd take as many of them with him as possible. A slight smile flickered over his features as he thought that, letting him remember a better time.

A time, where he wasn't alone. A time where his back couldn't be targeted.

Then, without a sign, the fight began.

_SPNSPN_

He stood on one of the roof's, following the battle. He saw the fair aura around the figure with the blades. Watched, as the flickering silver killed one by one of his brothers and sisters. _Shouldn't he feel enraged by that?_

He felt the presence of his father beside him, like him watching the fight.

"Isn't he beautiful?" Azazel asked his son quietly.

He nodded. _Yes. He is beautiful._

"A pity that human power is so limited. He'll grow tired, soon. And he'll start to make mistakes…"

Again he nodded. _He knew._

They watched on as the machetes did their deadly dance, swirling around, slicing, cutting, killing.  
And like the battle down in the alley the battle within him began to start anew.  
He could feel it shift. Screaming at him, to do something against this unright.  
His eyes settling on the lone fighter amidst this army of darkness. Flashes of a past so long flickered up in his mind, showing him what he'd done.

Always.

He felt the silver knife in his hand as the power of the thing inside him grew, blend with the dark part he was now, pushing it in the middle, cocooned it. And he was willingly let this part take control. He was tired and lost. He'd never been the one that was acting, only serving.

His knuckles turned white as his grip around the knife tightened.

Beside him the demon shifted, as if it was feeling something. His gaze left his brother, looking at the demon, Azazel, locking eyes with him.

"You lost." He said, his voice matter of fact and with a movement so fast, no eye could ever follow, the knife plunged into the chest of the demon.

Azazel looked down at the knife that protruded from his chest, watching the dark blood flow. Then his already dimming eyes rested on the eyes of his son.

"How…" he uttered in astonishment. His legs no longer able to keep him upright buckled and he fell.

_SPNSPN_

Sam knew he grew tired. His arms ached, and he panted as he continued his dance with the blades.

One of the demons used its opportunity as he saw a free spot, and hot pain shot through his shoulder-blades, as its claws drew deep cuts over his back.

Then everything stopped.

The world seemed to grow still, as a body hit the ground with a loud thud.

While all the demon's gazes seemed to be glued to the dead body on the ground Sam's eyes travelled upwards to see Dean standing there, his figure dark against the pale moon in his back, a shiny knife in his right hand.

A surge of power suddenly ran through him and the words of his brother let it soar high.

"You lost!" Dean shouted down at them, but Sam knew it wasn't addressed to him.

He saw Dean jump, landing on the ground beside him in a deep crouch and his own arms rose in anticipation, as the dark creatures turned back to them, eyes glistening in rage. Grim and determined they advanced again.

But this time he wasn't alone. This time nothing could target his back.  
Dean was back again. And Dean was having his back.

Then, without a sign, the fight began…

**FIN**


End file.
